Here's something you might be interested in.
I love an engineer who’s got a problem he can’t solve. Secluded in the shed,
back by the garden wall, he’s scoured through his books and tools,
and unearthed discarded projects,
grimey from neglect.
He lined them up and compared them and studied stacks of notes, finally fixing
one by dismantling those that broke. But still, against the yellow glowing
window overgrown with vines
his shadow paces.
I used to keep the kettle on; I used to warm the bed. I used to wring my hands
distraught by things left unsaid. Now instead in solitude, I watch him
wrangle the beast relentlessly gnawing
inside his head.
Wrapped in his crocheted childhood blanket, I watch from our shared room,
a sentinel striped by shutters shadowed by the rising moon, and swallow
back the yearning to push open his louvered pane
so that he might breathe along with me
the summer’s sage scented rain.
I love an engineer who’s got a problem he can’t solve. Secluded in the shed,
back by the garden wall, he’s scoured through his books and tools,
and unearthed discarded projects,
grimey from neglect.
He lined them up and compared them and studied stacks of notes, finally fixing
one by dismantling those that broke. But still, against the yellow glowing
window overgrown with vines
his shadow paces.
I used to keep the kettle on; I used to warm the bed. I used to wring my hands
distraught by things left unsaid. Now instead in solitude, I watch him
wrangle the beast relentlessly gnawing
inside his head.
Wrapped in his crocheted childhood blanket, I watch from our shared room,
a sentinel striped by shutters shadowed by the rising moon, and swallow
back the yearning to push open his louvered pane
so that he might breathe along with me
the summer’s sage scented rain.